


A Democracy of Devils

by excelgesis



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Demons, Demon Deals, Demon!Mark, Fallen Angels, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangers to Lovers, demon!mark doesn't know how to be human, human!donghyuck, human!donghyuck doesn't know how to deal with demons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-12-07 09:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18233021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excelgesis/pseuds/excelgesis
Summary: Mark takes a step forward, and Donghyuck doesn’t miss the bright blue flame that sparks on the tips of his fingers. “You’re not in a position to be ordering me around, human.” The last word comes out like an expletive, and Donghyuck very nearly feels afraid.“My name is Donghyuck, for the record, and I really don’t appreciate you harassing me in my own house.”Alternatively:Donghyuck is just trying to sleep when his old gas fireplace becomes an actual portal to hell.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> "There is no dignity in wickedness, whether in purple or rags; and hell is a democracy of devils, where all are equals."  
> \- Herman Melville

              “Excuse me, what?” Renjun spears a piece of chicken with a toothpick and raises his eyebrows in Donghyuck’s direction. “Your apartment doesn’t have _what?”_

               Donghyuck rolls his eyes and steals the toothpick from the paper cup in Renjun’s hands. The chicken-and-rice-cake combo is already halfway gone, and he knows that Renjun won’t eat the soggy pieces toward the bottom. “It doesn’t have heat. Also remind me again why we keep coming back here if you’re so picky about your food.” They’re lounging near the front door of a convenience store, directly across from a food cart that boasts an impressive line of college students, and Donghyuck is sure it’s the third time this week that they’ve been there.

               Renjun frowns and hands the cup to Donghyuck. “It doesn’t have heat? Are you fucking joking?”

               “It has a fireplace instead,” Donghyuck explains around a mouthful of food.

               “Do you even know how to operate a fireplace?”

               “No.”

               Renjun lets out a long-suffering sigh.

               Donghyuck finishes the last rice cake and throws the empty cup into his backpack. “That’s what Naver’s for, you idiot. It can’t be that hard to turn on a fireplace.”

               “Don’t come crying to me when your new apartment burns down.”

               “Ah, come on. You know I’d go to Jeno before I’d go to you.”

               “And Jeno would tell Jaemin and then Jaemin would tell me.”

               Donghyuck squints. “Shit, you’re right.”

◑

               Four months later, and Donghyuck can practically hear Renjun’s voice in his head screaming “I told you so” at top volume. Rain cracks like a whip against the apartment’s windows, and there’s a bitter chill creeping across the warped hardwood floors. It seeps through Donghyuck’s socks as he kicks off his soggy shoes and drops his backpack onto the kitchen counter.

               There’s a meow from across the room, and he looks up to see his brown tabby stretched across the couch, her paws pressed deep into a threadbare blanket. He narrows his eyes. “Shut up, Pudu. Anyone can start a gas fireplace.” He fishes his phone from his pocket and scrolls through Naver until he finds a promising video link. “See?” He holds the phone out toward her.

               He has to watch the video twice and scour the apartment for a lighter, but ten minutes later he’s turning the key in the gas valve knob and setting the logs aflame. It’s better than he thought it would be – the smell of gas is minimal, and the heat immediately starts to melt the ice in his toes. He sighs in contentment and pushes Pudu to one side so he can take the middle couch cushion. With a blanket across his thighs and his laptop perched on his knees, he settles in for the long haul. There’s a music theory essay that he’s been brainstorming for days, but all he has to show for it are the words “music shit??” at the top of an otherwise blank word document.

               He manages to write for an hour before Pudu steps across his keyboard. His phone chimes immediately afterward, and he figures it’s some sort of divine intervention telling him to take a break. The message turns out to be Jaemin sending memes to their group chat, and Donghyuck has a very specific folder in his phone’s gallery dedicated to moments like these. They go back and forth until Renjun threatens to kick them out.

               Donghyuck tries to return to his essay afterward, but the words start to smear in front of his eyes like ink meeting water. He blinks once, twice, three times before ultimately giving up and pushing his laptop onto the coffee table. The fire crackles and pops in the hearth, and he’s asleep between one breath and the next.

               It’s a strange smell that wakes him up, acrid and thick and suffocating, and his first thought is _holy fucking shit did I actually burn my apartment down?_ He bolts upright and instantly chokes. There’s a dark smoke making its way into his lungs and pricking his eyes like tiny needles, and he throws the blanket from his lap before scrambling to his feet.

               It’s indeed coming from the fireplace, and panic sparks down his spine. There’s a lump in his throat, and he spends a solid thirty seconds with his feet nailed to the floor and his hands uselessly fluttering in the air. Should he call the fire department? The police? Jeno?

               _Water, you idiot. Get water!_

               His limbs snap to action in an instant, and he runs to the kitchen to fill anything he can find. He’s sure that none of his glasses are big enough, and who the fuck has a bucket just lying around, so he settles on his largest plastic bowl. The water sloshes onto the floor as he hurries back toward the fireplace, where the smoke is curling forward in long, searching tendrils. It smells vaguely of sulfur, and he wonders if that’s normal before deciding that it really doesn’t matter. Three more steps – two more, one more – and he’s close enough to reach the flames. He squints against the burning in his eyes and throws the entire bowl into the hearth.

               There’s a low sizzling sound, followed by a hissed “Ouch!”, and the empty bowl clatters across the floor before coming to rest at Donghyuck’s feet. “Did you just _throw_ something at me--”

               Donghyuck’s blood stutters to a halt in his veins. _What the fuck—_ He takes a step backward, wincing as his legs make contact with the coffee table, and he swears he can see _something—_

               It appears to be a figure – tall, dark, hooded – and it’s stepping from the smoke with an eerie crackling sound. Its footsteps make no noise on the hardwood, and the flames behind it have cooled to glowing embers that wash the room in watery orange. Donghyuck can feel a scream rising in his throat.

               “Jang Minseok.” The voice is low and edged in malice. “Your day of reckoning has arrived.”

               Donghyuck swallows and tries to take another step backward, but he’s already pressed against the coffee table so he sits down on it with a _thunk._ His first thought is that he’s being robbed or possibly taken, and he doesn’t know what he’ll do without Liam Neeson to rescue him, but then his brain catches up like a rubber band snapping back into place. “I-I think you have the wrong house?”

               The figure takes a step closer. “Jang Minseok, age 74, guilty of cutting ties with your family when they abandoned the church. I know who you are.”

               Donghyuck’s fingers curl around the edge of the table. “What?”

               “Don’t play dumb with me, you lowly--” It stops mid-sentence, and the silence hanging in the room makes Donghyuck aware of just how loudly he’s breathing. The figure moves closer again, and he realizes that it isn’t as tall as he’d originally thought. It seems to be about Donghyuck’s height, maybe an inch or two more, and that knowledge lets a trickle of confidence seep into his veins. He stands up, they’re face-to-face, and the smell of sulfur gets stronger still.

               “I said” – Donghyuck takes another step forward – “you have the wrong house.”

               There’s a beat of silence – suffocating and heavy – before the figure shuffles backward and tugs its dark hood away from its face. It’s a boy no older than Donghyuck himself, with wide eyes and tousled blond hair, and _oh, okay,_ now Donghyuck understands.

               “Renjun put you up to this.” It’s a statement of fact, and Donghyuck sits back down on the coffee table. “God, what a fucking _asshole--”_

The boy takes another step back. He’s dressed in a hooded robe that reaches the floor, and Donghyuck almost has to applaud Renjun’s attention to detail. There are turquoise symbols near the cuffs and hem, and they glow faintly in the room’s smoky haze. His black boots are buckled up to the knee, and there are silver rings on several of his fingers.

               Donghyuck sighs. “Jesus, dude. Where did Renjun even find you? The theater department?” He leans across the table to grab his phone from the couch. He’s already composing a nasty text in his head when the screen goes dark and cracks into spiderwebs. He blinks and frowns before turning the phone over and shaking it roughly. “Fucking iPhones--”

               “Put it down.” The boy’s voice is frigid, and Donghyuck looks up in surprise to see him flick one hand to the side. The phone flies from Donghyuck’s grasp, slamming into the opposite wall and bursting into flames. Donghyuck’s first reaction is to protest and shout a string of colorful expletives, but then he processes the situation at hand and all of his thoughts screech to a halt.

               “How in the fuck--”

               “Tell me where Jang Minseok is,” the boy says slowly. He splays his fingers wide, palm facing outward, and the flames sputter out until all that’s left is a thin stream of smoke and a pile of twisted metal and glass.

               Donghyuck looks from the boy to his ruined cellphone and then back again. Even Renjun wouldn’t go this far, so the only logical conclusion left is that he’s dreaming. He pinches his forearm, his hands, his face, but the boy is still staring at him with icy eyes and the apartment still smells like sulfur. He remembers reading somewhere that certain people can control their dreams – lucid dreaming, or was it loose dreaming? Locus dreaming? Whatever – and while it’s never happened to him before, he supposes he can give it a shot. He stands up from the table and squares his shoulders. “Uh…” He clears his throat. “Begone, demon.”

               The boy blinks, and Donghyuck thinks his eyes are impossibly wide for someone who just magically destroyed his cellphone. “Excuse me?”

               “Begone!” He repeats it with more force, but the boy only raises an eyebrow.

               “If you’re the one who made the contract with Sicheng, I suggest you watch your tone. He doesn’t like it when subjects get testy.” He eyes Donghyuck from head to foot. “Or when they try to be funny.”

               Donghyuck bristles. “Okay, first of all, I am _incredibly_ funny on a daily basis, thank you _very much,_ and second of all, I don’t know who the fuck Sicheng is and I never sign contracts without reading the fine print.” He folds his arms. “So take your ugly robe and get out of my house. You’ve got the wrong guy.”

               The boy stands stock still, and Donghyuck notices that his blond hair seems to be blowing gently in a phantom breeze. There’s a strong unease rooted in Donghyuck’s chest, and the boy’s arched brows and deceptively guileless eyes don’t do anything to dispel it.

               “Take me to Jang Minseok. I won’t ask you again.”

               “Find him yourself, dude. I have no idea who that is.”

               The boy takes a step closer. “Is this not the apartment complex in Sincheon directly across from the station?”

               The question catches Donghyuck off guard. “Um, what?”

               “We are in Sincheon, correct?”

               Donghyuck squints. “No, we’re in Sinchon. Are you a tourist? Because, seriously, foreigners get those two mixed up _all the time._ I remember once I met this French exchange student, and he accidentally asked the taxi driver to take him to Sincheon instead of Sinchon, and so he had to call his roommate at like midnight because he couldn’t find the way back to campus.” Donghyuck chuckles at the memory. “It was funny as hell.”

               “Take me to Sincheon, then.” The boy’s voice is forceful and leaves no room for questioning, cutting off Donghyuck’s laughter like scissors to paper. He feels himself bristle at the tone.

               “I’m not taking you anywhere. I don’t even know who you are.”

               The boy blinks suddenly, as if he’s just realized he should have introduced himself, and the expression on his face is so undoubtedly lost that Donghyuck almost laughs again. Almost. “I’m Mark, lieutenant to Sicheng of the Netherworld. I have a mission to complete. Now take me to Sincheon.”

               Donghyuck does laugh then, loud and unabashed in the resulting awkward silence. What a strange dream this is. “Okay, whatever you say, Netherworld lieutenant.” He raises his hand in a mock salute. The boy – Mark – simply stares at him.

               “I don’t understand why you’re laughing.”

               “It’s just” – Donghyuck wipes at his eyes with his shirt sleeve – “this is the weirdest fucking dream I’ve ever had.”

               There’s a frown on Mark’s face, and his brows are lowering over those wide eyes. “You aren’t dreaming. Now take me where I need to go. I’m getting tired of asking.”

               Donghyuck is still wiping at his eyes when it dawns on him. The flames, the smoke, the smell of sulfur – he looks across the room, where his mangled phone is still lying in a sizzling heap. “So wait. If you’re from the Netherworld or whatever, does that actually make you--”

               “A demon, for lack of a better word.” Mark nods matter-of-factly, his blond hair nearly falling into his eyes.

               “So that means you can, like…” Donghyuck pauses and raises a brow. “Do things for people? Like favors?”

               Mark pauses. “They’re more like deals. The word ‘favor’ implies kindness.”

               “So I could make a deal with you? And you’d do it?” Donghyuck feels a tingling in his fingers, an excitement that reminds him of a child on Christmas. If he can really steer this dream in any direction he chooses, he’s about to make it one hell of a ride.

               Mark’s face darkens, and his eyes flash in a way that feels almost predatory. The guileless look is gone, replaced by something deep and dark and as old as the universe. “That depends on what you plan to give me.”

               Donghyuck shrugs. “What do you want, like, money? Or my firstborn kid?”

               “Fifty years off your life should do it.”

               Donghyuck nearly chokes on his own spit. “Whoa, that’s a little steep, isn’t it?” The excitement in his veins dials down to a bitter displeasure.

               Mark tilts his head to one side. “It’s fairly standard.”

               “Well then, count me out. Get out of my apartment if you’re not going to offer me anything good. This is my dream and I won’t have you ruining it.”

               Mark takes a step forward, and Donghyuck doesn’t miss the bright blue flame that sparks on the tips of his fingers. “You’re not in a position to be ordering me around, human.” The last word comes out like an expletive, and Donghyuck very nearly feels afraid.

               “My name is Donghyuck, for the record, and I really don’t appreciate you harassing me in my own house.”

               “Then take me where I need to go.”

               Donghyuck takes a step back and gestures toward the door. “Subway line 2 will get you there. Get off at Jamsillaru.”

               Mark takes another step forward, and it all feels incredibly threatening. “And Jang Minseok? How do I find him?”

               “I don’t know, dude. Try looking him up? Maybe he’s on Facebook?”

               “I don’t have time to waste on your human trivialities. Take me to him directly.”

               Donghyuck throws his hands in the air. “I don’t know who he is! You’re a demon, aren’t you? Can’t you track him down with telepathy or something?”

               “That’s not a power I possess.” There’s a line between Mark’s furrowed brows, as if the thought of him lacking telepathy is disconcerting.

               Donghyuck rolls his eyes and strides to the front door, pulling it open and gesturing out into the hallway. “Well, I’m sure you have your ways. Now get out of my apartment, please and thanks.” He stays there, frozen in mid-motion with his arm outstretched, but Mark doesn’t move.

               “I can’t believe you have the audacity to keep speaking to me that way,” he says, voice edged in a thick annoyance. “I could bring a plague upon your family, you insufferable little--”

               “Yeah, yeah.” Donghyuck huffs. “I’m sure you’re incredibly terrifying, now please leave.”

               Mark is moving forward now, inch by inch, but there’s a dark smoke trailing behind him in thick plumes. It’s acrid and heavy, and Donghyuck bites back the cough that rises in his throat. “You’ll regret getting on a demon’s bad side.”

               Donghyuck opens his mouth to tell Mark that he’s been on Renjun’s bad side hundreds of times and has never regretted it once, but the smoke claws its way into his lungs and leaves him choking. Tears prick at his eyes, and there’s a fire tearing through his chest with each breath. Mark comes closer, closer, and closer still, until he’s face-to-face with Donghyuck. There’s an icy energy emanating from him, and his irises are ringed in a blazing turquoise. Donghyuck wants to scream, wants to tear his lungs out with his bare hands, but he can’t breathe and the strength is seeping from his limbs one by one—

               “Donghyuck,” Mark says, voice dark and lethal and sharp as a knife, “let’s make a deal.”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in my cc messages: wish you would update demon au  
> Me: bitch me too
> 
> A big thank you to Lucy, my ride or die, for the beta read <3
> 
> And my absolute unending love to Cristal for supporting me and giving me writing tips/prompts when this fic makes me want to throw myself in front of traffic (which is all the time)

               Donghyuck sputters and coughs before shoving Mark away with both hands. “I’m not making any deals with you.” It comes out strangled and thin. “Your asking price is a little high for my taste.” He wipes at his mouth with the back of a hand and glares with as much intensity as he can.

               “You didn’t let me finish,” Mark says with a huff, and it sounds so close to petulance that Donghyuck has to stop himself from snickering.

               He raises his brows. “Then by all means, continue, Mr. Netherworld Lieutenant.”

               “No asking price.” Mark folds his arms across his chest. “No strings attached. You help me find Jang Minseok, and Sicheng and I will grant you one wish. Whatever you’d like.”

               “Wish?” Donghyuck does snicker then. “I thought you were a demon, not a genie.”

               “Fine, a _favor.”_ Mark sighs, and it’s edged in an exasperation so thick Donghyuck can almost feel it.

               He pauses then, letting his eyes travel from Mark’s disheveled hair all the way down to his ashy boots. “Could you pay my college tuition?”

               The sound Mark makes seems like a cough at first, and it takes Donghyuck several seconds to realize that he’s laughing. “Is that honestly what you want?”

               “Do you have a problem with that?”

               “No, I suppose I don’t, it’s just--” Mark’s brows furrow and he shakes his head. “Most humans ask for beauty, or credit cards without limits, or superhuman abilities--”

               Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “I already got beauty from my mother, thanks. If I can graduate debt-free, that’ll be more than enough.”

               A beat of silence. “If that’s what you want.”

               “And all I have to do is help you find this Minseok guy?”

               Mark nods once.

               Something curls in Donghyuck’s stomach, part hope and part unease. It’s a fantastic deal, one that he’d be stupid to pass up, but he suddenly remembers his cellphone in a smoldering heap against the opposite wall and his chest constricts. “It’s a good deal, I guess, but I’m not stupid enough to trust you.”

               Mark blinks those guileless eyes, and there’s an offended look that plays across his features for several moments. “Excuse me?”

               Donghyuck’s still standing, but he slouches against the back of the couch in an effort to appear as nonchalant as possible. “You heard me.”

               “I’m assuming you’ve never made a deal with a demon before,” Mark says primly, but the haughty air he tries to put on is watered down by the shock still lacing his tone.

               “Wow, is it that obvious?”

               Mark throws him a withering glare. “As a member of the Netherworld, my word is my bond. I can’t break a deal with you once I’ve made one, and I can’t change the terms.”

               “Or what, Sicheng will fire you?”

               Mark grimaces. “Something like that.”

               Donghyuck lets out a sigh, purposely making it louder than it needs to be, before shoving himself away from the couch. “So I help you find Jang Minseok, and you grant me one favor, no strings attached? That’s it?”

               “That’s it.”

               “Why do you need to find this guy so bad, anyway? Can’t you just go home and say you got lost or something?”

               Mark frowns. It darkens his eyes, his face, his entire demeanor until the room seems to overflow with it. “Jang Minseok’s relatives made a deal with Sicheng, and he dispatched me to carry out the job. We’re both bound by it, just as I would be bound if I made a deal with you. I’m not allowed to return home until I finish what I’ve been sent here to do.”

               Donghyuck makes a face and vows to never complain about working overtime at the convenience store again. “That blows.”

               A pause. “It’s my job.”

               “Still fucking blows.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and presses two fingers to his temple. The microwave clock reminds him that it’s getting late – irritatingly so – and he purses his lips. “Can you give me, like, twenty-four hours to think about this? Rushing into a demon deal feels a little questionable, even for me. And that’s saying something because I once got so wasted, I drank an entire bottle of perfume thinking it was whiskey.”

               Mark blinks. “You did what?”

               “Did I stutter?” Donghyuck reaches out to push Mark’s shoulder with as much force as he can muster. “Get out and give me some time to think about it.”

               Mark’s brows furrow, and he flinches away from Donghyuck’s touch. “Where am I supposed to go?”

               “A hotel? A freeway overpass? An exorcist? I don’t know, man, I’m not your babysitter. Can’t you figure that out by yourself? You’re probably like, what, a thousand years old?”

               “We don’t measure time the same way you do. I don’t know how old I am by your standards.”

               Donghyuck mentally berates himself for expecting an answer that made sense. “Well, leak your skincare routine because you don’t look a day over twenty,” he deadpans.

               Mark blinks again, and the arch of his brows makes him look deceptively childlike. “Oh, you mean this?” He gestures toward himself. He seems to realize, for the first time, that he has a corporeal body, and he spends several seconds touching his face and running his fingers through his hair. “I suppose it makes sense that I look young to you. Probably around your age, I presume?”

               “I guess? Do they not have mirrors in the Netherworld?”

               Mark eyes Donghyuck then, and it’s a determined and pointed thing, like he’s trying to memorize each of Donghyuck’s features. “My true form would be a bit difficult for you to comprehend. Demons don’t have bodies in the sense that humans do. We simply exist. When we come to the human world, we automatically take a corporeal form based on the human we’re contacting. Someone they would likely trust or get along with, which makes our work easier to complete.”

               Donghyuck snorts. The situation is so ridiculous, he’s not sure what else to do. “And Jang Minseok would’ve trusted a pretty blond college boy?”

               Mark raises a brow. “Am I pretty?”

               Donghyuck mirrors the action. “Does that answer my question?”

               Mark’s lips purse. “No, he likely wouldn’t have. But I didn’t show up at Jang Minseok’s apartment, now, did I?”

               “Right.” Donghyuck lets out a breath. “It’s me. I’m the one who trusts pretty blond college boys. Jaemin was fucking right.”

               Mark holds out a hand and examines his fingernails one by one. “Is that a sexual preference, or--”

               “Okay,” Donghyuck interrupts, fighting against the flush creeping up the back of his neck, “that’s enough for tonight. Didn’t I tell you to get out?”

               “I’ll remind you again that I don’t have anywhere to go.”

               “Your problem, not mine,” Donghyuck huffs. He gestures toward the door, and Mark looks back at it in confusion. “Do you want me to seriously think about this deal or not?”

               “I can find someone else, you know.” Mark folds his arms across his chest. “I’m sure any of the other humans out there would accept the deal instantly.”

               Donghyuck takes a deep breath through his nose and glances again at the microwave clock. It’s nearing one A.M., he has a class in the morning, and the headache rooting itself behind his eyes is worsening by the second. He stalks to the door and throws it open. “Let me know how that goes for you, then. Good luck navigating the human world in your pretty body, demon boy. Now get the _fuck out._ ” With one final shove, Mark is standing in the empty hallway and Donghyuck is slamming the door in his face.

◑

               Donghyuck barely sleeps, and the sun is just creeping over the horizon when he throws off his blanket with a groan. There’s a bitter chill in the room, and he knows the hardwood floors will be entirely unforgiving, so he reaches for a pair of discarded socks and shoves his feet into them before shuffling into the kitchen. There’s still a headache planted firmly in his temples, and he’s already considering skipping his first lecture.

               He’s just starting a pot of coffee and pulling a mug from the cupboard when he hears a curt, “Why does this animal keep sniffing me?” and he turns around so quickly the mug slips from his fingers and shatters against the kitchen tile. He jumps back with a shriek and jerks his head up to see Mark sitting casually on his living room couch. Pudu is there next to him, sniffing his knee and pawing at the fabric of his robe.

               “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?!” Donghyuck yelps. His heart is in his throat, and he’s gripping the edge of the countertop so hard his knuckles have turned white. The coffee pot fizzles and spurts next to him, and the situation is so utterly ridiculous he’s sure he’s gone insane.

               “I’m waiting for you to accept my offer. What else would I be doing?” Mark tilts his head to one side.

               It’s a pure sort of annoyance that runs through Donghyuck’s veins, sharp and fierce, and he storms into the living room with his hands balled into fists. “You can’t come into my apartment without permission. I told you to leave!”

               Mark frowns. “I did leave. And then I came back.”

               “I didn’t ask you to come back!” Donghyuck shrieks.

               “You never said I couldn’t.”

               “Oh my dear sweet fucking Lord.” Donghyuck exhales slowly and unclenches his fists. He opens his mouth to make another scathing remark when Pudu meows and climbs onto Mark’s lap, which makes Mark jerk so violently a throw pillow slips to the floor.

               “Is it supposed to be climbing on me?” His voice is neutral, but there’s an uncertain edge to it.

               Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Haven’t you ever seen a cat before?”

               “I’ve seen them, but I don’t touch them. I prefer not to interact with things from the human world if I can avoid it.”

               “How charming.” Donghyuck scoffs and turns back toward the kitchen. “You’re gonna have to get used to the human world if you’re stuck here, demon boy.”

               “The sooner you accept my offer, the sooner I can go home.”

               Donghyuck plasters on his most saccharin-sweet smile. “And the sooner you stop bothering me, the sooner I’ll seriously think about it.”

               Mark goes quiet then, and Donghyuck pointedly ignores him while he cleans the broken ceramic from the floor and prepares himself a cup of coffee. He can feel eyes on him the entire time, a constant point of heat between his shoulder blades, and he huffs in irritation as he enters the living room.

               “Are you done staring?”

               Mark doesn’t say anything, but his eyes don’t leave Donghyuck’s face.

               Donghyuck sets his mug on the coffee table with a _clunk_ and perches on the edge of a couch cushion. “I’m sure no one has ever told you this, but we humans consider it rude if you stare for too long.”

               Mark’s brows furrow and he drops his gaze. And Donghyuck suddenly wonders how this must feel for him – being stuck in an unfamiliar place with new customs, new people, new norms – he clears his throat.

               “Sorry. This is probably, uh…weird for you?”

               Mark glances upward. “Excuse me?”

               “Being stuck in the human world. Isn’t it weird?”

               “Oh.” Mark moves to place his hands in his lap, but when he realizes Pudu is still stretched across his knees he seems to think better of it. “I’ve been here more times than you can imagine, so it isn’t entirely unfamiliar. But” – he reaches up to push a stray lock of hair back from his forehead – “I’ve never stayed quite this long.”

               Donghyuck hums and curls his fingers around his coffee mug. He’s about to ask another question when Mark speaks again.

               “Humans are strange, aren’t they.” It isn’t a question. “At their core, they’re very strange.”

               “You’re not helping your case,” Donghyuck says primly. “If you want me to accept your offer, you might want to try being a bit more complimentary.”

               Mark exhales sharply. “Right.” He falls silent for several seconds, and Donghyuck can practically hear the gears in his head creaking into action. Mark clears his throat. “You…have a lovely…house.”

               Donghyuck can’t hold back the laughter that bubbles up in his throat, and he blames sleep deprivation for the hysterics that he falls into. He laughs until he can’t breathe and his coffee sloshes onto the floor, and Mark stares at him with wide eyes.

               “Was that incorrect?”

               “No,” Donghyuck gasps. “You’re just – God, you’re really fucking bad at this-”

               Mark’s eyes narrow.

               Donghyuck sucks in a lungful of air. “Hold off on the compliments until you get better at them, demon boy. I’ll accept your stupid deal if you promise to never say that again.”

               “It’s hardly _stupid--_ ” Mark protests.

               Donghyuck cuts him off with a raised hand. “Take it or leave it.”

               “You’re being serious?” Mark’s eyes are round, eyebrows arched high, and Donghyuck has to swallow to keep himself from laughing again.

               “One hundred percent.”

               The overhead light flickers, and Donghyuck is sure he feels the room’s temperature drop by several degrees. “You can’t back out of this, Lee Donghyuck.” Mark’s voice is suddenly a shade darker and twice as sharp. “It isn’t a joke.”

               Donghyuck shrugs. “I never said it was.”

               Mark holds out a hand. “Take my hand, then.”

               “Aren’t you going to ask me to dinner first?” Donghyuck flutters his lashes, but there’s a sudden anxiety pooling heavy in his stomach.

               Mark doesn’t say anything, and Donghyuck purses his lips before joining their hands together. The touch is surprisingly cold, and a jolt of electricity sizzles through Donghyuck’s palm. They sit there like that for several moments, facing each other wordlessly on Donghyuck’s tattered couch, and the silence is like water in his ears.

               Mark wets his lips and looks away. “You, Lee Donghyuck, are entering into a contract of your own free will. Can you attest that this is the truth?”

               It takes Donghyuck a few moments to answer. “Yes.”

               “You have agreed to help me, Lieutenant Mark answering to Sicheng of the Netherworld, in my mission to find Jang Minseok. In return, Sicheng and I have agreed to grant you one favor of your choosing. Can you attest that this is the truth?”

               “Yes.”

               Their eyes lock then, and Donghyuck notices with a start that Mark’s irises are again glowing turquoise, bright and steady around pitch-dark pupils. “This deal cannot be broken on behalf of either party. You are bound by this deal until all terms are met.” Mark tightens his grip, and it’s strong enough to make Donghyuck flinch. “Do you agree?”

               Donghyuck takes a breath, and he’s almost certain he can hear Renjun on the other side of town calling him an _absolute fucking disaster of an idiot_ , but he thinks of the tuition money and shoves an imaginary sock in imaginary Renjun’s mouth. He raises an eyebrow and watches as Mark’s gaze falters for a fraction of a second. “I agree.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ everyone who spotted the john mulaney reference in this chapter: you're the real MVPs
> 
> find me on twt and cc @excelgesis


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